Chapter 36 Alain
thirty-six
Alain
Dreams of amber eyes haunted me all night, fragments of visions where she called my name through the darkness.
I woke sweating, tangled in sheets that felt like chains binding me to my own obsession.
Twelve days since I’d brought her from that cursed forest, and still Isabeau Dubois occupied my every thought like an illness with no cure. She shouldn’t matter this much.
A stranger. A woman who might carry the very corruption my family had spent generations fighting.
Yet I couldn’t stop myself from ordering the servants to fetch me the moment she woke again, couldn’t stop the flutter of anticipation each time I approached her door.
This wasn’t just duty anymore. This was something far more dangerous.
I pushed myself from the bed and crossed to the window, pulling back heavy curtains to reveal a dawn barely breaking over Durand’s eastern wall.
My chambers offered a commanding view of the kingdom my family had ruled for generations.
Usually, watching the city come alive brought me peace, reminded me of my purpose.
Today, I barely noticed the beauty spread before me.
My mind was elsewhere. In a white room where a woman with amber eyes fought against the help I offered.
A soft knock at my door interrupted my brooding.
“Enter,” I called, not turning from the window.
“Your Highness.” One of the older maids—Brigida, who’d served my family since before Odette disappeared—curtsied as she entered, her eyes politely averted from my state of undress. “The lady is awake again.”
My heart quickened. “How long?”
“Nearly a quarter hour now, sire. The longest yet.” Margot’s face remained carefully neutral, but I’d known her long enough to see the curiosity lurking beneath her professional demeanor.
The entire castle whispered about my obsession with the forest maiden.
“She’s taken broth and a bit of bread and appears to be more alert. ”
I nodded, already moving toward the clothing laid out the night before. “Tell her I’ll be there shortly.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Another curtsy, and she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
I dressed with military efficiency, choosing a simple blue tunic that my mother said matched my eyes and dark riding pants rather than the formal attire my station demanded. Formality wouldn’t win Isabeau’s trust. Nothing seemed to win her trust.
Every time she woke, our conversations followed the same frustrating pattern. Her insistence on returning to that place of darkness. My refusal. Her silence when questioned about the beast that kept her. My growing conviction that the forest’s corruption had poisoned her mind beyond reason.
But this time she’d been awake longer. Perhaps today would be different. Perhaps today I’d break through the walls she’d built around herself.
The halls were quiet at this hour, most of the castle still sleeping.
My boots echoed against marble floors as I made my way to the eastern wing where I’d ordered Isabeau placed.
Close enough to my own chambers that I could reach her quickly, but isolated enough that rumors wouldn’t spread about inappropriate proximity.
Not that it mattered. Court gossip traveled at the speed of thought regardless of precautions.
Two guards stood at attention outside her door, their expressions carefully blank as they bowed at my approach.
I’d chosen them personally. Men from my hunting party who’d seen firsthand what the forest could do but who’d also witnessed my determination to protect the woman we’d rescued.
Men who understood the danger she might represent but who wouldn’t act without my direct command.
“Has she tried to leave?” I asked, though I knew the answer. In her weakened state, Isabeau could barely cross the room, let alone attempt escape.
“No, Your Highness,” the older guard responded. “Just the maid entering with food and leaving again.”
I nodded, satisfied. “I’ll see her now. Alone.”
The guard unlocked the door, swinging it wide before stepping aside.
I paused on the threshold, suddenly uncertain.
This pull she had on me, was it natural?
Or was it some dark magic working its way under my skin, using her as its conduit?
The thought should have repulsed me, sent me running in the opposite direction.
Instead, it only deepened my fascination.
Squaring my shoulders, I entered.
Isabeau sat in the window seat, a silk robe cinched tightly around her waist, emphasizing how dangerously thin she remained despite the castle’s best efforts to nourish her back to health.
Sunlight caught in her auburn hair, setting it ablaze with highlights I hadn’t noticed in the dungeon’s gloom.
She turned at the sound of the door, and those haunting eyes were eyes that didn’t belong in a human face.
They fixed on mine with an intensity that stole my breath.
“You’re awake,” I said, stupidly, again. Obviously she was awake. I’d been visiting her room each morning and night when she rose.
“Your maid said the same thing.” Her voice was stronger today, less the rasp of someone who’d screamed herself hoarse and more the cultured tone of a woman educated beyond what her station might suggest. “Is everyone in this castle determined to state the obvious?”
I smiled despite myself. There was spirit beneath that fragile exterior. “The obvious often bears repeating when it brings relief. You’ve been more unconscious than not since I brought you here.”
“And where exactly is ‘here’?” She gestured at the room around her, at the luxury that seemed to make her uncomfortable rather than impressed. “You said Durand, but that’s a kingdom, not a location.”
“The royal castle at Durand’s heart, The Noble City,” I replied, moving further into the room but keeping a respectful distance. I’d learned from previous visits that crowding her only made her withdraw further. “My home. And yours, for as long as you need to recover.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’ve told you before, I don’t need to recover here. I need to return to—”
“To that dungeon?” I couldn’t keep the edge from my voice. I didn’t want to have this conversation again. “To chains and starvation and whatever beast kept thee prisoner?”
“It wasn’t like that,” she said, her gaze dropping to her hands where they twisted in her lap. “You don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.” I took a step closer, careful, like approaching a wounded animal. “Tell me why thou is so determined to return to a place of such suffering.”
“It wasn’t suffering.” Her eyes flashed up to mine, defiant. “Not all of it.”
“Not all of it,” I repeated, incredulous. “You were chained to a wall, Isabeau. Starving. Half-frozen.” My hands clenched at the memory of lifting her skeletal form from that stone floor. “If I’d arrived even days later, you might have been beyond saving.”
“I can’t be saved,” she whispered, so quietly I nearly missed it. “Not the way you think.”
Something in her tone sent a chill down my spine. “What does that mean?”
She shook her head, turning back to the window. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.” Another step closer. “Who is he? The beast that kept thee?”
Her shoulders stiffened, the change so subtle I might have missed it if I hadn’t been watching so intently. “There was no beast.”
“Don’t lie to me.” I moved to stand before her, blocking her view of the window, forcing her to look at me. “The locals speak of it. A creature that lives in the heart of the Forbidden Forest. Something neither man nor animal that takes beautiful women as its playthings.”
Anger flashed across her face, transforming her features from merely beautiful to something fierce and wild. “Is that what you think I was? A plaything?”
“I don’t know what you were,” I admitted. “That’s what I’m trying to understand. Why thou bears its marks on thou’s shoulder. Why thou defends it even now.”
Her hand flew to her shoulder, fingers pressing against the fabric of her robe as if to hide what lay beneath.
The bite mark. The claiming. I’d seen it when the healers examined her, a perfect crescent of teeth too large to be human but arranged with too much purpose to be animal creating three rings.
A brand of ownership that turned my stomach even as it fascinated me.
“Thou dost not know anything about it,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “About him.”
“Then tell me,” I urged, dropping to one knee before her so our eyes were level. Close enough now to see the flecks of gold in those amber irises, to count each freckle scattered across her nose like constellations. “Help me understand, Isabeau.”
Something flickered in her gaze. Longing, perhaps, or the desire to unburden herself. For a moment, I thought she might actually open up to me. Then the wall came down again, her expression smoothing into careful neutrality.
“There’s nothing to understand,” she said. “I simply need to go back.”
Frustration surged through me, hot and sharp. “Back to what? To whom? Give me one good reason why I should let you return to that place of darkness.”
“Because they need me.” The words escaped her like they’d been torn from deep inside, raw and honest in a way nothing else had been. Immediately, I saw regret flash across her face, as if she’d revealed too much.
“They?” I seized on the word. “There’s more than one?”
She looked away, lips pressed together, refusing to elaborate.
“Isabeau.” I took her hands in mine, feeling the delicate bones beneath paper-thin skin. “Whatever hold these creatures have on you, it isn’t real. It’s the forest’s corruption, working its way into your mind. Making you believe things that aren’t true.”
“You know nothing about it,” she repeated, but there was less conviction now, a weariness creeping into her voice.